Day Eighty-Five: The Mystery of the Rabbit Skin, Part Two

Just as I finished setting the grate into the earthen stove, I heard the sound of branches snapping! "Hmm?" It wasn't just one; it sounded like several dry branches being stepped on, and it wasn't far away. It had to be right at the edge of the woods outside the yard.

"Could a wild boar be back? Don't tell me I'm that unlucky." I stood up, peering in the direction of the noise. I caught a glimpse of a figure—it looked like an ape, yet also like a person. Perhaps realizing it had made noise by stepping on the branches, it immediately prepared to flee.

"Who's there!" I shouted, drawing my pistol and axe as I gave chase.

My heart was filled with tension and fear, but I was driven by a desperate need to see exactly what this thing was. No one else could understand what I was feeling; this sensation of being watched was truly terrifying.

It moved with incredible speed. By the time I climbed out of the pit, it was already far ahead. I almost lost sight of it, but because I had ammunition in my pistol and it was broad daylight, my fear subsided enough for me to decide to pursue it with everything I had.

Initially, terror had dominated my mind. After the nightmare of the previous night, the face of that monster was still vivid in my memory, but that feeling didn't last long. After all, such a monster couldn't possibly exist, and once my reason returned, I cast that thought aside.

At the same time, I began to wonder: what kind of animal would flee immediately upon discovering me? What was it afraid of? Or, for that matter, did it even see me standing in the pit? Why run just because of a snapped branch? What was it so afraid of?

I ruled out wild boars. Generally speaking, a boar wouldn't run even if it made noise, let alone move faster because I was chasing it. They don't know fear—unless you count a honey badger attacking their testicles. Besides, the silhouette I saw didn't look like a boar.

What was it, then? Other people? I couldn't believe that either. If there were others, we would have encountered them by now after all this time. It didn't make sense. So, humans were also ruled out.

It moved with amazing agility, like a blur. I was left far behind, but I could still faintly hear it crashing through the vines and trees, which allowed me to track its general direction.

The creature clearly possessed some intelligence; otherwise, it wouldn't have vanished from my sight so quickly. Could it be an ape? The only apes of that size I knew of were mountain gorillas, but they were native to Africa and nearly extinct, with fewer than a thousand left in the world. It couldn't be one of those. However, other species of apes were a possibility.

Thinking it over, an ape seemed the most likely candidate. After all, their intelligence is comparable to that of a young child. But why would an ape flee at the sight of me or the presence of human life?

Had it been brought here by humans? Had it been harmed by them? I didn't know if these speculations held any weight, but it was all I had to go on.

"Huff, huff!" I was exhausted. The creature navigated around the thickest tangles of vines and branches, moving through gaps, which left very few tracks and made tracking it incredibly draining.

When we reached deeper into the forest, its trail suddenly vanished. I felt a surge of frustration, blaming myself for missing such a golden opportunity. Without a direction, how could I hope to find it? In this jungle, it could change course at any moment or lie in wait to ambush me—assuming it was smart enough. If I continued, I couldn't afford to be careless.

I pressed on for another few dozen meters, and just as I was about to give up, I made a new discovery. Because the sun couldn't penetrate the dense canopy, some rainwater remained in a low-lying area. It must have passed through here; a set of footprints appeared ahead.

I wasn't an expert on tracking, but these were unmistakable—human, or perhaps ape, or even some kind of hominid. Unfortunately, the prints weren't clear, showing only faint impressions of soles and toes.

If it were an ape, it would have to be quite large, as these prints were only slightly smaller than my own. Or was it a human? Could there really be survivors here? If so, they had discovered me! This put me in a very vulnerable position. I didn't know if it was one person or a group, or if they had just noticed me or had been watching me all along.

The implications were vastly different. If they had been watching me for a while, they likely had malicious intent, perhaps coveting something I possessed. If they had only just discovered me, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing; I could make contact and gauge their situation. After all, I still had my gun.

I used to be a kind person, but now, I had become someone who would do anything to survive. Adversity and time had completely changed me.

The footprints disappeared into a thicket of tangled vines. I had come this far and didn't want to give up. If it had passed through here, it would have left marks—broken branches, pushed-aside vines. I would find something.

Sure enough, five minutes later, I found the trail in the far right corner of the thicket. Two branches were snapped behind a curtain of vines. If I hadn't carefully pushed the greenery aside, I never would have seen them. The breaks were fresh; there was no doubt they had been snapped moments ago.

I pushed through the vines and followed, but I became cautious. I holstered my pistol, moved the axe to my right hand, and picked up a sturdy branch with my left.

I did this because I feared an ambush. If the creature was waiting to strike, I would have very little time to react. A pistol would be useless in such close quarters, whereas an axe would be devastating. The branch served multiple purposes: it could clear the path, probe for hidden dangers, and defend against sudden viper strikes. If I spotted it first, I would hold the advantage.

I hadn't gone far when the branch in my hand struck something soft. I didn't react, suspecting this was the creature in hiding. Adjusting my footing and the angle of my axe, I thrust the branch forward with all my might.

"Aoo!" A pained howl rang out!